Today’s Easter Service video sermon
John 20:1-18
Preachers often say that Easter is the hardest day to preach. Because what can you say about this story that hasn’t already been said a million times before? Well, let’s see if we can look at the story this morning with fresh eyes.
Mary came to the tomb so early on Sunday morning it was still dark. But when she got near she could see that something was amiss. The stone that was covering the tomb had been moved aside.
If it looked like anything, it looked like foul play. It looked like somebody had broken into the grave and taken the body away. Mary didn’t go any nearer to investigate. Mary was smart – not like some character in a scary movie who walks into the dark, empty house with the broken windows. Mary was smart; she turned and ran the other way.
She ran directly to the disciples to let them know what she saw. Peter and another disciple, probably John, ran back to the tomb to see for themselves. Cautiously, each one of the men entered the tomb to have a better look. All that was left were the graveclothes. No indication what Peter was thinking, but of the other disciple we are told, “he saw and believed.”
But just what he believed is not clear, because the sentence continues, “for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.” Was he beginning to get an inkling about this good news? Or did he only believe what Mary had said, that the body of Jesus had been taken away?
All they could know was that his body was gone. All they could assume was that it had been taken away.
Both men left, probably to share this news with the other disciples. Maybe they were going to tell them, “they’ve stolen the body of our teacher!” But Mary now stayed behind. Perhaps Mary needed some time alone for all the things she grieved. They had crucified her Lord, and now, as if that wasn’t enough, they couldn’t even let his body rest in peace.
She stood outside the tomb weeping. But then she saw she was not alone. Two angels appeared in the tomb; they asked Mary why she wept.
You know, usually when angels make an appearance, they have to start with, “Fear not!” But maybe Mary wasn’t afraid – not now. With everything that had happened already, there was no more room for fear. Just grief. Grief filled her entire being. She said to the angels, “They have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have laid him.”
She turns and sees there is someone else there. A man. He asks Mary the same question: Why are you weeping?
I don’t know why Mary had to suffer this question – twice. Why are you weeping? It brings to mind a memory of when I was a child being hurt by another child on the playground. My teacher saw me and asked if I was okay. I was embarrassed to be caught crying. She asked me, “Something get in your eye?” I nodded hard, like, “Yeah that’s it.” She said, “Tears?” I nodded again.
Why do we weep? There are all kinds of reasons, but they are usually not simple. We weep because we are human, we are mortal beings. And there are moments in life when we become starkly aware of our mortality.
We weep now because the reality of death has come closer to us all. Every day we watch the counts rise – the numbers of the afflicted, the numbers of deaths. Every day now, death is a close companion, and the reality of our finite nature becomes very clear to us. And so we weep.
We weep because we are cut off from the ones we love at the time we really need them, and from the work that makes our lives seem purposeful at a time when we really need that sense of purpose.
The coronavirus pandemic has left us alone with our powerlessness over the realities of life and death. It has left us alone, facing our own fragility.
Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return – we say these words on Ash Wednesday. The end of our lives will come and our material bodies will fade away to dust.
And so we weep. For the loss of control, the loss of life, and the knowledge of our own mortality.
And into the midst of our weeping comes Easter. In the midst of our weeping, there is rebirth, there is new life, there is hope.
A silver lining, perhaps – a phrase I have heard many people use recently, to speak of the surprising gifts we are finding in this weird time.
But I will tell you, I have been feeling sad this past week. More than usual. Maundy Thursday always makes me feel sad, Good Friday feels like a heavy weight we carry. But this year there has been a sadness, a weight, that has stuck to me all the way to Easter. Because of all the ways we can’t celebrate this year.
I have felt sad that we can’t fill the sanctuary with our bodies and sing loudly together, Jesus Christ Is Risen Today, Alleluia! I feel sad that we can’t be together and make a joyful noise. I come into this first day of the week still feeling sad, weeping for all that we have lost. It doesn’t even feel like Easter.
But, you know, it didn’t feel like Easter to Mary, either.
Christ came to her in the depth of her sadness, at the moment she needed him. As Mary stood weeping, he called her name.
Hearing him say her name broke through her distress, and she could see him, Jesus, and she was filled with joy. But then – did you catch what he said to her?
Don’t touch me. Stay away from me. Social distancing.
We are where Mary was. We can feel this story this year, perhaps more than we ever have before. In the midst of a dark and fearful time, in a place of death, comes Easter. Because this is exactly where Easter is needed.
Easter doesn’t come in the midst of pastel parades and baskets full of bunnies. Easter comes in hospitals overfull with patients and short on protective masks. Easter comes in cities using refrigerated trucks to hold the dead because the morgues are full. Easter comes in the temporary tent hospitals.
Easter comes in the nursing homes where residents are confined to their rooms for fear of an uncontrollable outbreak. Easter even comes in an all but empty sanctuary, where my voice echoes off the walls as though I am standing in an empty tomb.
And maybe, in these places, without all the usual festivity, we can see it when Easter comes – Christ resurrected, defeating the power of death out of God’s love for the world. Easter comes to us when we need it.
In the midst of a broken and fearful world,
In the midst of death,
In the midst of our despair, Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.
